*And you -haven't- seen how efficient -my- warband is, prince. But I will pass your request to Naga. How many paychecks is he signing?*
The show of force seems to be geared more towards preventing you from taking the Gallofrees hostage than attempting to impress. The snubfighters close in on Naga's transports - they're still at long range, but they're definitely escorting the Gallofrees, not you.
Responding to the movements of Naga's force, Ty drops into a tight formation with the freighter, but far enough out the the ships sensor shadow isn't a problem.
"I hope you don't mind me saying so, Prince, but I'm getting the vibe that we're not being appreciated here. We made our offer and showed them what we can do; we shouldn't be sitting on our asses answering henchman questions."
*Don't expect illustrious careers just because you made some lucky shots on some TIEs. You'll show respect or you'll be gone. Fall in behind the Gallofrees and follow them in.*
(Assuming no dicketry on anyone's part... )
The expanded convoy heads dirtside. Nar Shaddaa's lights give the enormous city a blue aura as the ships descend, the black sky punctuated with twinkling spires. Down, down the convoy goes, floating vertically down into a massive hangar pit, overlooked by massive edificial spacescrapers. The traffic controller droid's voice is tinny over the commlink:
*Bulk freighter Dragon, you are cleared to land in berth 12.*
The Gallofrees disappear into separate hangar pit. The Dragon and its cloud of escorts settles into their own giant, nearly deserted bay. If Naga owns this string of hangars, then he must either still be short some ships or he's got multiple convoys running.
After a short wait with no contact from anyone, an airspeeder finally crests the hangar pit's cavernous entrance, setting down near the Dragon. The door shunts open and a back-and-chrome protocol droid disembarks, followed by a Klatooinian in a crisp dark suit. The Klatty's either a muckamuck, and there'll be a pilot still in the speeder, or the alien's the chauffeur and the droid's important... hard to tell from their demeanor.
The droid comms in the Hapan tongue. "Naga respectfully requests an audience with your highness. If it pleases you, please accompany me to the speeder. Naga assures your highness that one additional companion would be welcome."
Eritram sees the airspeeder approach and is, frankly, surprised by the droids, formal tone.
Seems like they bought the Hapan prince story, he thinks to himself.
"Of course", Eritram motions for Shas to come with him "Shas, I think business is about to be conducted." Turning to the droid, "I think Mr. Naga will see that my proposition is very wise."
The droid leads Eritram (er... sorry, Prince Shan Yu) and Shas off the spindly landing platform, hanging like the head of a pin some immeasurable distance in the air. The thin walkway leads into a security nexus, where the two Vandals are scanned for weapons but are not disarmed. The droid leaves them at this point, and they are escorted by Human guards in dark suits into a viewing room overlooking the Nar Shaddaa nightscape.
They stand there, flanked by the pair of guards, for a few minutes. A door at the rear of the room cycles and admits Naga, his retinue, and two men - one of them they recognize from Maso's files as Bek Briggs, Naga's supply monkey. He walks beside and to the rear of the group, lanky and perpetually looking like he's up to no good - a weasel in human skin. The other one is tall, gray-haired but light of foot, a broad frame and strict demeanor betraying military experience. Dutch walked like this man walks. Judging from the man's voice, it's that Braxis Dane character who so rudely met the Vandals in orbit.
"These are the pilots I told you about. They appear competent." Dane steps back with Briggs as Naga floats his sled towards "Prince Yu". The Hutt is old, leathery, and wrinkled. He puffs one last time on a hooka-frog and tugs on the Abyssin chained to his sled. Two human females, dressed in a manner that could be described as "slinky", stand silently next to the Hutt.
"Prince Yu. I am Naga. You desire employment and hope to use the goodwill tendered by rescuing my tibanna shipment to gain it." It's not a question but a statement. "I already employ transportation experts. Tell me what advantages I can expect from your services."
"With all modesty, Mr. Naga, your "transportation experts" seem to be, bluntly put, useless. If they were of any value I would not have had the chance to rescue your shipment."
Eritram grins at Dane, then looks back at the Hutt, "For a smart businessman (slug, he thinks to himself), like you are, the benefits are certainly obvious - less repairs needed, no shipments arriving late or not at all. All of these things keep the credits in your pocket."
"Minus our small fee of course.", he concludes with a smile.
Naga doesn't seem phased one way or the other by Eritram's subtle digs at his henchmen or flattery to his personage, but he nods as Eritram makes his point about his former 'transportation experts'. "I will contract with your group for a single shipment, after which I may wish to contract you for additional work. Mr. Briggs feels that you may be of some assistance with transporting goods to Mygeeto. 5,000 credits, with one thousand paid up front. Mr. Briggs and Mr. Dane will acquaint you with the necessary details." Naga doesn't even assume you'll refuse - when one attacks an Imperial convoy just to get a job interview, money must be tight. The slug jerks "Hound"'s chain, rotating his sled and moving to leave the grand viewing room.
Eritram heads back to the squad to report the success of preliminary stages. He will also try to locate the droid on the way to get the details of the next job.
The droid doesn't show up again, but the Briggs guy and Braxis Dane walk down the ramping steps towards you.
"Heh, the boss must think you're better than you look," snarks Briggs. He wears a short tunic, with glossy boots and flat pants in the Imperial style. His datapad glows weakly as he checks it. "Yeah, I got room for your crew here. Nothing fancy. You'll leave here with the cargo, dock at these coordinates on Mygeeto, bring some cargo back. Dead simple. The boss's been having some trouble out Pelagus way, so we're using you and doin' a straight shot. You're new and won't be marked as Naga's. You're in the Action IV what's docked in pit 12, right? We'll be able to move a little more than our normal shipment then - he'll be pleased, you'll get more work, and my job's easier 'cause a single ship is way simpler to pass off as-"
"Shut up, Bex." Dane takes over the conversation. "He talks too much but he's organized. This is not some petty pirate -" he spits the word "- clan and we do not deal with warlords. This is a business and we expect to deal with businessmen. You pay your men whatever cut of the profits you like, but there is to be no whoring, no spicing, and no drinking before or during a run. If you run into trouble you can't handle, you use these comm channels and we will get you out. If you're contracted with us, you're our wingmates and we watch out for our wingmates. We ask that they do the same. Anything before we get your ships loaded, your highness?" Dane's attitude he affected in space is curiously gone here - he actually sounded like he meant what he said about "wingmates" and "your highness".
Meanwhile, Ty finishes triple-checking the group's false books. Jorm went over it before they left, and it looks like his sense of organization was put to good use. Ty can't find anything wrong with them. The next part might be tricky.
---
The heavy sounds of autohydrospanners echo through the Dragon's upper corridors. MDK-911's tightening the power feeds on the droid brain wired into the Action IV's dorsal turret. The brain was more than mindless; it couldn't even vocabulate. All it knew were firing solutions and threat assessment - subjects which, although very near and dear to Murdoch's unbeating, cold steel heart, were just not that interesting to talk about.
Ty's footsteps clank on the deckplates surrounding the gunnery chair. He's got some sort of bolt in his hand, and looks like he has something uncomfortable to say.
Ty shifts a little nervously, craddling an hour's worth of tinkering in one hand. "Ummm...excuse me? Murdock? Can I talk to you?"
Murdock's eyes burn with an irritable glow about them.
"Affix it."
(assuming Ty does so)
The droid draws down on Ty, his forearm blasters extending and puts four well-aimed shots into the wall behind Ty. The small craters outline the tech's head in a silhouette of carbon scoring.
"What the Duece is going on ?" shouts Jorm running into the room where Ty and MDK-911 are 'working'.
Seeing that no one except the walls is injured. Jorm calms down a little, but he turns to face the droid. "Murdock, the next time you want to test the bolt, please just punch him in the face. We don't want these 'gentlemen' asking questions about blaster shots."
Turning to Ty. "Come one, it looks like we may have some work and some new wingmen. Let's get the ships ready for action."
Jorm claps Ty on the shoulder. "Relax. There are going to be a lot more people shooting at you before your career is over. The important thing is to make sure that they miss and you can't do that if you let things rattle you."
"What the Duece is going on ?" shouts Jorm running into the room where Ty and MDK-911 are 'working'.
Seeing that no one except the walls is injured. Jorm calms down a little, but he turns to face the droid. "Murdock, the next time you want to test the bolt, please just punch him in the face. We don't want these 'gentlemen' asking questions about blaster shots."
"Had a slight weapons malfunction, but everything's perfectly alright now. We're fine, we're all fine, here now, thank you. How are you?"
Admiral Duck Sauce
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Dieter